Oh, The Places She'll Go!
by Reallybored2
Summary: Buffy receives a gift from the god of Change and Beginnings.


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Disclaimer: Hey, guys! You know better . . .I own nothing! Joss Whedon and his team own _Buffy The Vampire Slayer_ and all related characters and materials. The late Gene Roddenberry, his estate, and Paramount are responsible for _Star Trek_ and all related characters and materials. And, George Lucas and his group own all _Star Wars_ related materials and characters.

Now, this story is one of those things inspired and loosely based on other fan-fic stories. PitViper's _"CHAOS THEORY: REKEYED"_ on . On Twisting the Hellmouth there is Methos's _"A CHANGE OF COMMAND"_ and Miraniemrysanduin's _"PHARAOHS, PRIESTS, MAGICIANS AND MAGICAL GATES"_.

I hope you enjoy this story, no matter how odd it becomes.

I never did buy the idea of Xander as a Chaos child-Buffy, on the other hand, fits the description perfectly.

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Summary: Buffy receives a gift from the God of Change and Beginnings.

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Oh, The Places She'll Go!

Prologue:

In the back of his shop, in front of the intact bust of Janus, Ethan Rayne's unconscious body laid sprawled on the floor, until just before dawn. When he woke up, greeted by a splitting, mule-kicking headache, a horrified Ethan realized something had gone terribly wrong-A noticeable void existed within him. Gone were his powers and even the majority of his knowledge! Ethan stared wildly around and he-Must have hit his head, when he slipped and fell. He must have been lying on the floor all night long! Ethan glanced at his Halloween decorations, and decided to get medically checked out before coming back and cleaning up.

On a quiet street, the exterior of a smug and self-satisfied woman's house had been artfully and carefully decorated with thousands of toothbrushes.

In a shadowed alley, a blond vampire wrapped in white toilet paper and dripping egg yolks and slimy egg whites, desperately dove headfirst into an open sewer.

Another street, in the bedroom of another house, a sleeping boy, dressed in army BDU's twitched and moaned in his sleep as he dreamed of War.

A shy girl, dressed in leather, attempted to walk through a wall in her house, and earned a bruised nose for her trouble. While, in his own bedroom, a brown hair guitarist softly strummed his guitar and thought fondly of that same girl.

In another bedroom, returning sunlight fell upon the sleeping face of a man living with the shadows of a haunted past, awakening him.

Hours before . . .

Miles above the Earth, a large, nearly all white starship glittered in the unfiltered sunlight.

Inside the ship, within one of its opulent bathrooms, Buffy Anne Summers sat on the cool, tiled floor, gasping for breath, while tears streamed down her face. Vomit and acid burned her throat and the back of her mouth. Nausea still clutched her stomach giving it an occasional squeeze. She was still dizzy, but that was passing.

Buffy's eyes widened and her breathing deepened as she considered the past few hours . . .

She had met a god! Buffy closed her eyes as her vision swam-And remembered the god of Change and Beginnings, Janus . . .And the events that lead up to that meeting.

HALLOWEEN, OCTOBER 31, 1997:

Her beautiful noble woman's dress was _all wrong_! Buffy wailed.

"Yeah, Buffy," said Soldier Guy Xander, waving his toy rifle around. "Dead Boy hated those women-He considered them airhead bimbos!"

"Xander's right," said Willow, enshrouded in her Boo! costume. "Angel likes modern, brainy, tough, fighty women-We got to talking 'cause he likes computers, too. I found out he's really a decent hacker."

"Okaaaay," Buffy drawled. Inside she was panicking! Why did Xander and Wils drop this little tidbit on her _after_ she bought the stupid dress?!

Calm down Buffy, she told herself. Xander was by no means the only improvisational monarch around here. Let me see what I can scrounge up-Buffy shot a long look around the street and spotted a freshman giving her a clear, familiar look. She glided over to the suddenly nervous young man. Her charges following her like baby ducklings. Buffy gave him her most brilliant smile, "Hi, there . . ."

Twenty-two dollars lighter and later, Buffy scowled into the bag holding a small collection of junk. A set of futuristic pistols, a plastic sword, four thermal grenades ('Thermal Grenade' painted on them); a utility belt, a real knife-Buffy rolled her eyes up at it-. A real wood stake bought from a fake vampire hunter (it only cost two candy bars, imagine that!). Andrew Wells contributed a large book entitled '_The Technical Guide To Sci-Fi's Starships, Warships, And Weapons_'. Since he allowed her to borrow it for the night, Buffy not going to ask why he was hauling around a book that weighted at least eight pounds.

And, if all else failed- a long, dark-blue cloak. Buffy figured if no one bought the idea she was a princess from a future high tech, space-traveling society-Who is secretly the Slayer-Then she will pull a Willow and hid under the cloak!

Buffy was still adjusting her alterations, when she curiously asked her little trick-or-treaters-"What did she give you?"

In answer, they _all_ pulled out plastic covered toothbrushes from their bags. Buffy was so surprised and shocked the hand holding her knife slipped and drops of blood fell on the skirt of her dress and the trimming of her cloak. Buffy winced and silently cursed Snider to some incomprehensible and bizarre fate!

"She has got to be stopped!" Buffy declared. And then, Ethan's lovely spell came into effect.

Not to long before, in the back of Ethan's shop the mage collapsed after completing his spell. The Power rushed out and hovered momentarily before gathering itself and launching itself out towards the heart of a greater Summoning. Blood had called to it: The powerful Blood of a frustrated and unhappy Slayer.

Slamming into her, the power of a god poured itself into the Slayer-Buffy rolled up her eyes and collapsed in the midst of terrified and confused children.

Where am I? Buffy questioned as she looked at the gray mist surrounding her. One moment she was staring at toothbrushes, the next eye blink she was-Where exactly?

"In your own head, actually," answered a Voice. It came out of the mist, and Buffy for the life of her, had a time trying to decipher the gender of the being.

He/she/it smiled. "Hello, Buffy. My name is Janus, god of Change and Beginnings."

"Huh . . .Yeah . . .Got some ID to back that up, Mister? Like a valid driver's license or a passport? I'm not picky, I'll take anything you've got." A god? A real god? Buffy mentally slapped the side of her head, trying to clear it up. More like a demon impersonating a god-Or having typical demonic delusions of grandeur. Hey, wait . . .If she was inside her own head, how could she be thinking inside it?!

Janus grinned in amusement. "No, no valid form of ID. But how's this-We call a little truce and we talk about you, your family, your friends and your potential future?"

Buffy's eyes suddenly narrowed. "Okay . . .Let's lay the ground rules here-My family and friends are off limits to you. You go near them or hurt them in any way, and I'll come after you, god or no god. Hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Miss Summers." Janus said unfazed. "Now, a quick explanation-Ethan Raynes, a Chaos mage and the owner of the costume shop you bought your dress from, decided to abuse my generosity when he invoked my Name and Power. He cursed every thing he sold with a latent spell; and then used blood magic to activate the spell. That would have turned you and everyone who bought his tainted goods into their costumes-In your case, a screaming idiot. What no one expected was the bizarre turn the spell took when drops of your blood contacted Ethan's hexed materials."

"Whoa!" Buffy exclaimed in wide-eyed realization. "The dress-The cloak!" She squeaked.

"Yes," the God confirmed. "Your Slayer blood interfered with the activation spell: Drawing and diverting all of its available energies into you. Normally, that level of energy pouring into a weak human vessel would have cremated the human, and then created a backlash that would have done the same to the spellcaster."

Buffy eyed Janus suspiciously. "You said 'bizarre' and 'normally' . . ." she prompted nervously.

Janus smiled, and Buffy shuddered. "Oh, you're smart enough to figure this one out for yourself, Slayer! The Dumb Blond routine has no mileage here-And, you should be grateful you put away the wig. If you hadn't, you would have been the state's next bottle blond."

Buffy fingered her loose blond hair.

"To avoid any screaming denial, let's walk through this: The Slayer is strong and powerful-Got that one?" Buffy nodded numbly. "Good . . .Power capable of nuking and dusting a human being is usually a gentle kiss to a Slayer. Still with me, Buffy? Ethan Rayne's spell bound the wearer of his cursed costume to the identity behind the costume-If you thought you were a, hmmm, a silly, helpless noble woman, then that's what you would have become; including all the prejudices and preconceptions you had of that class of woman." Janus smirked. Buffy softly whimpered-She had some idea of were Janus was going. "But you altered your costume-Bits and pieces, but they were _all_ Ethan's toys and potent tools. With all that energy pouring into them, supercharging them-What was it you went as, Buffy?" The God mocked.

Buffy mumbled something under her breath.

"What? I'm sorry . . .but I didn't catch that. Louder, please," Janus gleefully ordered.

Buffy licked her lips; grateful her expensive lipstick had a good moisturizer. "A princess from a future high tech, space traveling society-Who is secretly the Slayer." She whispered.

"Ha! Even better than suicidal mice or Carpal Tunnel Syndrome!" Janus crowed in delight. "You do know what this means-Princess?"

Inspiration smacked Buffy alongside her non-existing head. "Wait! How can I be from high tech or space traveling anything, when I'm stuck in the late twentieth century, wearing an eighteen-century dress? If the spell can't fulfill its objective, then it gets canceled out! I know that much!" She babbled in desperate triumph.

Janus snickered. "Oh, no, no, no . . .Buffy, that catch is not applicable in this matter! Don't you worry, Buffy. We still have a few things to walk through-Like your transport."

"Transport?" Buffy repeated, numbly. She suddenly brightened. "What kind of transport? Like a cool sports car? An Italian model, right?" Buffy warmed to the idea of a potential free car. Tough part would be to get her mom to let her keep it. Maybe she could hide it somewhere? "Whatever! Gimme, gimme!"

"No. Better! And, remember, you asked for it!" the God grinned. He waved his hand in front of Buffy's face and a blinding white light replaced the gray place. Buffy gasped as her core self exploded outwards, and she became the center of a vortex of pain and energy.

In her struggling mind, Buffy reached out to the stabilizing, familiar presence of her friends and the adult she trusted most: Willow! Xander! Giles! Help me!

Willow closed and locked the front door of her house. She took two steps in when she collapsed; Willow got up and stared down in shock at the Boo! costume covered body-_Her_ _body!_

"Halloween goodies are so much fun!"

Xander spun around; he had finished escorting the children back to their homes and was heading home himself when the voice called out. The guy stood there, for a moment laughing at Xander before he vamped out-

The Soldier had a momentary glimpse of pus colored eyes, a deformed face, and long sharp fangs before the explosive bullets from his gun disintegrated the creature's skull. It then turned to dust. Causing The Soldier to stare in disbelief and question outloud: "Where the hell am I? And what is going on here!"

In the quiet and respectful silence of the school library, Giles slept sitting by the book-laden table, with his head pillowed by a massive tome when he jerked up awake and convinced his children needed him! Under his sleeve, Eyghon's tattoo began throbbing and itching.

Help me! Somebody, please help me! Buffy pleaded as the violent energies, released within her swarmed out, stretched and then snapped back, crashing into her. Causing Buffy pain beyond imagining; the vortex of energy convulsed and pulsated with memories and experiences and thoughts-Agony! Buffy was in unimaginable agony; screaming silently as burning energies crawled and tore into her.

A cooling presence came into Buffy's mind, dulling the pain in small measure. Willow, Buffy recognized the green spirit as Willow. Xander, in blue and Giles' golden soul; they shielded her in some part from the terrible pain. Buffy desperately reached out to them, in gratitude shared with them those parts of her that were better, richer, and brighter, even as they shared with her the best of themselves.

As slight as that relief was, it allowed Buffy to think-A Voice, Janus, urged and encouraged her to do . . .What? Confused, Buffy listened carefully. Buffy felt herself being guided. There was something, an image . . .a book. What-Oh, that book! The one Andrew Wells loaned her. She stared at some of the diagrams and almost dismissed them, until she noticed the pain and ripping sensation lessening the harder she concentrated on the book and it contents. Buffy concentrated on the details, the math, the lines of each ship and technology involved-It was all pretty nonsense . . .Or maybe . . .Buffy floated in a state between mind ripping agony and bearable pain and came to the conclusion, that maybe with Magic she could do . . .what exactly? Buffy reexamined the book's contents-. In occupying her mind, Buffy's pain lessened: with a few experimental twitches of her mind, Buffy began building-Something.

Her ship, Buffy realized with sudden astonished clarity. Something she could use to get away-A secret hideaway for herself, in case things got too ugly. The thought became clearer, and Buffy's motives shifted away from pain relief, to escape and refuge.

Her yacht-All the energies tearing away at her condensed into that ideal. A starship-Down into the void of space those energies rushed. They gathered and refined the matter of the Universe. Knowledge beyond the silly book formed and shaped the machine.

What Machine? The Machine forming in front of her: Or was it around her? Buffy peered at the embryonic thing forming . . .It was big, she admitted. Was it alive? Buffy considered in alarm. No, Buffy noted with relief it was not designed for artificial sentiency, nor was it likely to get that way on it's own. But it was sophisticated enough to intimate and impress Buffy: An offshoot of her weapons proficiency was the ability to see how things worked and were put together. She could be a damn good engineer, Buffy told herself, considering the possibility . . .Maybe, for later . . .Buffy promised herself.

Raw materials were culled from the surrounding space; altered on a molecular level, refined and shaped. All in a globe of energy that Buffy seemed to be a part of-She compared the creation of the ship to a growing embryo. The insides, the 'brain' and 'nerves' growing along with the 'arteries' and 'organs'-Buffy contently watched 'baby' grow, momentarily forgetting the pain stalking the edges of her conscious.

Eventually, things come to a final end-'Growth' slowed down and the massive white and red glittering starship was complete. A sharp prow pushed through the veil separating those odd spaces between the Universes. Long and sleek, the ship slide out to real space and took up orbit in the other side of the moon, out of sight of Earth's eyes. Red nacelles, two on the side of the ship a third of the way down the body, folded up against it. Four other long nacelles, two on either side, curved slightly around the body of the ship. A large single engine glowed in the back. The slight rises, on the top and bottom of the ship, were pierced with hanger doors.

Buffy pulled herself up to the sink, and with water and mouthwash, cleaned herself up: dropping the used towel in a handy receptacle and staggered and stumbled out into a large bedroom; Buffy got to the large bed and collapsed on it with a groan. She kicked off her shoes. Buffy had one thing left to do-

"'Phone. Mom." Buffy called out. A moments later the sounds of a telephone ringing, then a pick up-"Hello?"

"Mom? It's Buffy! I'm still at Willow's. I'll be cleaning up, and going directly to school from here. Is it okay with you?" Buffy forced a normal, light voice out of herself.

"Alright, honey. Did you have fun?"

"Uh, mom . . .We escorted a bunch of little kids around. How could that be fun?"

"Oh, sorry, sweetie . . .I'll see you tomorrow, then. Just remember to call me-Say hello to Willow for me! Love you, baby."

"Love you too, mom. Bye!"

"Bye, sweetie!"

A click and the connection broke. Buffy stared up at the ceiling for a minute or two before heaving a sigh. She had plans to make; but her head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. Finally giving up the struggle, Buffy called out a wake-up time and closed her eyes, immediately falling asleep.

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Ah, yeah . . .not exactly a top prizewinner. But I hope you were _somewhat_ entertained by it.

Thank you for reading it and good-bye.


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